Princess Over Time

Chapter 2

A Failed Apprenticeship 

North Dakota, USA, April 23, 2003

            “You idiot! You absolute moron! I might as well have gotten a pure-blood human as an apprentice. It’s been what? Eight years? In eight years you haven’t learned anything beyond nullification and haven’t once managed to make use of yourself!”

            Hayden stared at the burning hole in the floor. Noxious green fumes ascended from the unearthly glow at its bottom. “What was in that bottle?”

            “Vial, Hayden. Vial. And that was an acid I developed for eating through organic materials. Pour it on yourself next time and rid me of the bother of having to do it to you!”

            “You act as if you hate me but I haven’t been kicked out yet.”

            “Well…” Archimedes stirred a small pot of steaming and bubbling liquid. “…An enemy of the monarchy is a friend to me.”

            “Well the reason for my dislike for the three kings is pretty obvious. I still don’t quite understand what you’ve got against them.”

            “It’s not so much a hatred of the kings themselves but rather I detest the system of government we immortals have brought upon ourselves. I’m a Greek at heart, I love democracy. I love the freedom of thought, speech, and press. We should all have an equal voice to shape and form our world. How can I not be disgusted with a system that would accuse you of being a desecration based on nothing more than lineage?” Archimedes poured the contents of the pot down a funnel and into a small bottle and corked it when he was done. “There you have it. One invisibility potion. The more you drink the longer you’ll stay invisible. A single drop should be effective for two to three minutes.”

            Hayden wrapped the bottle in a large cloth and stuffed it into his pack. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

            Archimedes spoke from beneath his graying beard. “If I remember correctly eight years ago you said that you wanted to learn magic and would do odd jobs in return. Think of this as some repair since you didn’t manage to pick up a thing. Not that you dimwittedness was my fault.”

            Hayden laughed. “Hold on! You said I was a prodigy at nullification!”

            “Nullification is taught to immortal children five or six years after birth. Its hardly even magic!” Archimedes looked at him critically. “Admittedly you’re naturally gifted at nullifying magic…but you can’t cast a single spell. If you were to get into a duel of any sort you would perish from lack of offense.”

            Hayden couldn’t dispute. His spell-casting did leave much to be wanted.

            “So”, Archimedes switched tracks “where are you going?”

            Hayden scowled. “Well. I know who I want to go to. But I have no idea where she might be. Cass didn’t give me any hints as to where she was going when she left me behind. Do you have any magic that could help me?”

            Archimedes studied his wrinkled hands. “I may know of some magic that could help you…but nothing within my ability to perform comes to mind.”

            “Cass had a mirror she could look into and use to determine where and when an enemy was coming. Is there something like that I could use to find her?”

            “The Mirror of Onad? Your friend was capable of conjuring the far-seeing mirror? Should have had her teach you magic.”

            “Well…I never saw her conjure it. I guess its possible she did it all the time when I wasn’t looking though.”

            Archimedes shook his head. “Its more likely that she had one of the originals. The mirrors Onad crafted himself are physical and need no incantation.”

            “So if I got an original I could use it to find Cass?”

            “Hypothetically speaking I suppose the answer would be yes. But I’m quite sure the only surviving original resides in the golden castle. There were never many of them to begin with. I do wonder how your friend managed to…” He trailed off into thought.

            “The golden castle…” Hayden thought back to when he had gone there so many years back. He remembered the luscious garden that had left him full of so much awe and that peculiar little princess. “So I should be able to find the mirror in that castle?”

            “Don’t even think about going there. You’ll be dead before you ring the doorbell.”

            “Not necessarily. My energy signatures aren’t as easy to read now that my immortal blood has kicked in. I no longer smell so human, nor is my aura weak like a mortal. They won’t recognize that I’m a mongrel unless I do something dumb and give myself away.”

            “That’s the ending I’m most worried about the occurrence of honestly.” Archimedes told him to hold on for a moment and disappeared into the back room that Hayden had never been allowed to enter. After a few moments of loud rummaging Archimedes returned with an ornate box. He opened the lid and revealed a beautiful pair of white gloves. “These gloves will help you accomplish whatever it is you need to accomplish. The more they like you, the stronger the bond becomes, the harder it becomes to take them off--without their consent of course--, the more powerful and skillful you’ll become.” He snapped the box closed and handed it over. “Don’t lose them. They’re probably the most valuable things I’ve ever owned.”

            Hayden packed the box away. “Anything else?”

            Archimedes shook his head. “No, you’re as prepared as you can be for the world out there. Just don’t die alright?”

            Hayden slid on his coat. “I’m afraid I’m dying one way or another.”

            Archimedes waved away his reply. “Just don’t die in the next five, six hundred years. Okay?”

            “I’ll do my best old man.”

            Hayden headed for the door.

            “Oh and Hayden…”

            “Yeah?”

            “If you try to steal Onad’s mirror you’ll probably be killed. Say by some miracle you weren’t beheaded, hung, or stabbed to death…come back again some day.”

            Hayden turned and grinned. “I’ll mark my calendar.”

The Three Month High

Chapter 2

What the heck was this?

                I kept glancing at him out of the corner of my vision. His eyes were dead and looking through people like he used to. His back was hunched and his breathing haggard. This was the Harry I’d experienced for the last three years. What had happened to the Harry of a day ago? When he was like this everyone ignored him. Some people were scared of him, some people made fun of him but one thing was certain, he wasn’t making many friends.

                When first period finally ended and most of our classmates had filed out of the room I confronted him immediately. “What’s wrong with you?”

                He looked up at me blankly for a moment before something akin to realization flooded his face. “Ah, you’re…that girl.”

                “That girl?” I repeated back to him. “Are you really going to act like you don’t even recognize me? After you blackmailed and terrorized me yesterday?”

                He shrugged. “Have you said ‘hi’ to Connor yet?”

                I shook my head. “No, but I will.”

                “Make sure it isn’t a passing ‘hi’. It needs to stick in his head.”

                “Yeah, yeah I got it.”         

                “Good. Don’t talk to me at school again. Agnes.” He laid his head down on his desk and shut his eyes.

                “Don’t you have to get to your next class?”

                He didn’t so much as respond.

                I could feel my blood levels spiking. “Hey, just because it’s almost summer you shouldn’t just skip classes.”

                He looked up at me. “Who are you again?”

                I honestly couldn’t tell if he was a jerk or a psycho. Either way I was about to let him have it when a deep teachers voice caused me to spin around. Mr. Brogan, one of the strictest faculty members in the entire school.

                “Shouldn’t you be in your next class Miss?”

                “Ah…sorry.” I straightened out my blouse. “I was just trying to get my classmate to come along.”

                Mr. Brogan took a few steps through the door and peered around her towards Harry. “Leave him be and move along.”

                I passed the biology teacher on my way out and--to my surprise--he followed me. “What about Harry?”

                “Like I said. Leave him be.”

                I didn’t see Harry for the rest of the day. Not even in the fourth period class I shared with him. Was he playing hooky or something? It seemed almost as if  Mr. Brogan had allowed him to flagrantly break the rules.

                I was so taken up in my thoughts that I completely forgot about the passionate greeting I was supposed to give to Connor. That was fine I decided, doing what Harry suggest probably wouldn’t amount to anything, the guy was far too suspicious.

                He only became more suspicious when--after I had driven out of the school parking lot--he magically appeared on the back seat.

                “How’d things go with your soon-to-be-lover?”

                I nearly wrecked the car. “What are you doing!?”

                “Didn’t I say lessons would commence after school?”

                “That doesn’t mean you can just…” I calmed myself down a bit. Why was I freaking out over him sneaking into my car? Yesterday had already made it plenty apparent that I couldn’t expect normal or rational behavior from him. I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I should be a little more concerned for my own safety while around him. “Where were you all day?”

                “I was around. Sleeping mostly. Waiting for the fun to begin. Did you say hi to Connor?”

                “Well…no I didn’t get the chance.”

                “You chickened out? Lame. Well the greeting stage was more for the sake of testing out your courage anyway, its not the first step to actually getting you your boyfriend. Still…we have to make your primary and secondary impressions before school ends, otherwise the summertime relationship development will get much more difficult. We’ll raise the flag tomorrow. For now let’s go to my house.”

                I wasn’t following most of what he said at the beginning and I didn’t bother responding to all that blather. It seemed as if he was more talking to himself than anything else. “What am I? Your personal chauffer?”

                “We’ll take my car from there. There’s so much to do and so many sights to see.”

                I was somewhat surprised. “You have a car? Was that ride I gave you last Saturday completely unnecessary?”

                “No I took the bus into town for the jump.”

                Harry directed me to his house. Another shocker. My dad made a fair sum of money and we had a nice house. Harry’s house had to be at least four times the size of mine. His car was a bright red convertible that probably cost ten times s much as my vehicle. Didn’t kids whose parents had this kind of money normally go to expensive private schools?

                “Are we stealing someone’s car?”

                Harry grinned. “It’s impossible to have fun in a dinky car like yours.”

                I tried to act offended but it was hard to argue when he revved his car’s powerful engines. I entered on the passenger side. “Why don’t you drive to school?”

                “Cause I don’t want to. Who wants to be flashy in a place where dreams go to die?”

                It wasn’t much of an answer but asking him for clarity was like asking a rock for water--only God could make it happen. Still. Wouldn’t anyone who came to school in a ride like this become a lot more popular. Harry wasn’t bad-looking, just antisocial, if girls found out he was this rich he probably wouldn’t have trouble getting a girl who was willing to put up with his dreary personality--or at least the dreary persona he put forth at school.

                He pulled carefully out of his drive way and also maneuvered slowly out of his neighborhood but the moment he got on the highway he became a speed demon. I gripped the seatbelt around my chest, I always wore it, but at this speed it felt as if it wasn’t doing much for me.

                He weaved in and out of traffic while talking casually. “Are you hungry?”

                I confirmed that I was a little hungry. I’d spent most of my lunch period looking for him--I didn’t tell him that much though.

                “I’ll cover. What kind of meal are you in the mood for? Burgers? Steak dinner? Seafood? Tacos? Pizza?”

                “Steak dinner? Are you offering to pay for an expensive meal or are you talking about a steak sandwich from a fast food joint?”

                He shrugged. “Who knows? Just tell me what you’re in the mood for.”

                “Steak” sort of slipped out. The next thing I knew we were at an absurdly overpriced steakhouse. I wasn’t sure if he was serious as he motioned me inward. Would they even let a couple of kids in wearing plain day clothes? The host--a tall and gangly man with a curving mustache--was rightfully dubious of us. Harry whipped out his cell-phone and made a quick call.

                The manager of the restaurant came out and greeted him. When the host saw that the two of them were practically on a first-name basis he ushered us to our seats with, what could be considered, unnecessary politeness.

                I nibbled on the fresh sour dough bread that was provided as I considered the long list of entrées. I would have felt more uncomfortable with what I was wearing if our booth wasn’t so sheltered and secluded. I didn’t have to look at all the people wearing fancy gowns and tux-like suits.

                “Might I suggest their filet mignon.”

                 My eyes bulged as I looked at the price. “Are you sure this is alright?”

                He nodded.

                After our food and drink were squared away he began getting into his proposed plan to hook me up with Connor.

                “You didn’t say ‘hi’ to him today but I suppose that’s partly my fault as well. It’s fine because that stage was more for me to assess you, it’s not necessary.”

                I still wasn’t sure about all this but I listened to him nonetheless.

                “You don’t strike me as the type who plays video games. Are you?”

                I shook my head. “Almost never.”

                “So you definitely don’t play dating simulation games?”

                “No, sounds a little desperate. Do you?”

                He shrugged. I don’t play games as much as I make them. Of all the different types of games making dating simulations is the most fun. Replicating feelings, emotions, responses, it all takes a deep rooted understanding of the human nature.”

                “Are you basically telling me that this whole thing about getting me together with Connor is you converting your video game fetish into a real life fetish?”

                He blanched. “No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. There is a reason why I’m doing this but that’s not it and you won’t know what it is until after the three months are up. I was talking about dating simulations to answer how we’re going to ensnare Connor.”

                I looked at him skeptically. “How we’re going to ensnare Connor?”

                He nodded. “That’s right. See, first impression is the key. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a good first impression, it just needs to be a big one. Something to burn you into his mind.” Harry cracked his knuckles excitedly. “In dating games this is called ‘raising a flag’. We generate instant interest in you and proceed from there to curve and shape that interest to suit your desire for him.”

                “A big impression? What do you mean by that? How do I make a big impression?”

                “Don’t worry about that. Leave it all up to me. I’ll take care of that tomorrow. You should be sure to wear something bright and exciting. You’re really pretty, you just don’t stress that beauty enough.”

                I appreciated the sentiment but something about the way he said it made me want to punch him rather than smile.

                “Connor’s got girls all over him--foremost of which being Sarah--but he never dates them, that means you have an extra high hurdle to jump. It’s not just that you need to make him want you but you first need to make him want a relationship in general.”

                Our food finally arrived.

                Harry wasn’t kidding. I wasn’t much of a ‘meat’ person but the steak was amazing. He also allowed me to try some of his mushroom ravioli. I definitely wasn’t much of a ‘mushroom’ person but even that was good.

                “Dessert?”

                “No thanks.”

                Harry turned to the waiter and ordered some dulche-deluxe-cheesecake-something-or other.

                It sounded delicious. It looked even better.

                Harry pushed the plate between us and handed me a fork. “You’re not going to make me eat all of this just for the sake of your diet are you? Since we’re best friends now you have a duty and responsibility to help me polish off treats like this.”

                I acted as if he coerced me into it but I think both of us knew I really wanted some, he humored me though.

                “So. Do you have a curfew?”

                I shrugged. I’d never really stayed out all that late so my mom had never bother to lay one out. I thought about her nightly drunken amorousness with my father. “No…my parents probably won’t even notice when I get home.”

                Harry withdrew a hundred and a fifty and tucked it into the check. “Well if you won’t get in any trouble”, he stood and offered me his hand, “the night is still young, let’s live it up.”

                He had that mischievous grin of his, the sort of grin that made me think he was going to try to sneak us into some eighteen and up club or something.

                We ended up going laser tagging.

                If someone had asked me what it meant to live it up at the beginning of that day I probably wouldn’t have been able to give a good answer. By the end of the night I’d probably have answered “not laser tag after eating ridiculously rich and creamy cheese-cake.” But in the middle of the games--which went on for about four and a half hours, as Harry threw himself around the dark room as if he was in the midst of actual combat, I probably would have said, “this is it.”

                Afterwards he bought cotton candy--it turned out he had an unexpected sweet-tooth and we walked around for a while. We didn’t talk about all that much, just trivial stuff, but actually being listened to and listening to another person was great. It felt a far cry different from whatever meaningless relationships I’d managed to slap together throughout my high-school days.

                He dropped me off at my house around eleven-thirty and gave me an odd farewell. “Tomorrow, at school, be a stranger.” He peeled away before I could respond.

                I went straight to my room, exhausted. Before I slept I noticed the absence of my wallet but for the life of me couldn’t remember if I had even brought it to school with me that day.

Princess Over Time

Chapter 1

Memory Fragments

           

            Romania, September 5, 1834 time-line b

            Hayden was irked. He made sure the obnoxious girl who had shoved him was well aware of the fact. “Why’d you push me? Why are you being so irksome?”

            Her blond curls bounced as she laughed at him.

            He just felt more irritated. “Hey! You should act more like a princess and less like a little kid!”

            She stopped laughing and leaned down over him with a sweet smile. “I don’t want a little kid like you telling me that. I’m eight, you’re like what three?”

            Hayden quite clearly remembered his father telling him that was his age. He could hear his father’s voice in his head “if anyone asks you how old you are you must tell them you are three years old.”

            “I’m thirty-three.”

            She laughed even harder and sat down next to him. “You’re funny and cute, maybe I shouldn't have given my father such a hard time about marrying you.”

            Hayden looked around the luscious garden. Her family’s castle grounds were so much nicer than his family’s property. He knew why of course. Her family was several times richer. “We won’t be getting married. My father won’t allow it.”

            “Why not?” She seemed perturbed by his comment.

            “I mean no insult to your family name but I just can’t marry you. Or anyone else for that matter.”

            “Why do you say that?”

            He shrugged. “Cause I’m different from you.”

            “Hayden!” He looked up into his nanny’s mortified face. “I told you to stay at my side at all times.” She glanced at the pretty little girl beside him and curtsied deeply. “Princess.”

            She grabbed Hayden’s arm and dragged him away.

            The princess stood and watched him go. After a few seconds she called out after him. “Different is alright. I might even like it.

            Sweden, December 4, 1834 time-line b

            “Who did you tell!?”

            Hayden narrowly dodged the ruby adorned chalice. “Father…I-I just.”

            “Don’t give me that stuttering act! Who did you tell!?”

            “I didn't mean to tell her. I swear it was an accident.”

            “Her? Oh god. You don’t mean…? You didn't tell his daughter?”

            Hayden dodged food, plates, and various cutlery. “Why does it matter? Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong with my body? What makes me so different from everyone else?”

            Hayden didn't receive an answer. His father turned towards his ever present butler. “We have only one day. We need to be on our way to America by the day after tomorrow. Help the young master prepare his things. We’ll have to travel light.”

            “Sir.”

           

USA, Virginia, July 5, 1845 time-line b

            It was burning. Everything was burning. The whole world, his whole world.

            “Kill the desecrator! Slaughter the blasphemer.”

            Hayden pushed himself further back into the hay pile trying to hide his small body.

            “Find the child! A talon of gold to the one who brings me his head!”

            Why was this happening? Why did he have to undergo this sort of hellish treatment? He hadn't done anything wrong.

            “Please…help me. Anyone…help me.” The smell of blood mingled with the smoke filling the air. He dared not look out through the hay and grass obscuring his vision. If he was seen, if he was found. A vision of Hector lying bloody on the ground flitted across his mind. His father’s loyal butler had died following the last orders issued to him.

            “Protect him at all costs. He is everything we have worked for. The summation of all we have achieved.” Hayden blinked away the memory. He couldn't afford to think about his father at a time like this, if he didn't keep his wits about him…

            The hay covering him was suddenly brushed aside. “Is this the head worth a talon of gold? I wonder what a little kid like you could possibly have done to earn yourself the enmity of the king?” The soldier wasn't expecting much of an answer as he leveled his pistol with Hayden’s forehead.

            Hayden closed his eyes. He’d always hoped for a more serene death but a gun wound to the head was probably a pretty quick and painless way to go out.

            There was a squelch of flesh and a dying gurgle.

            “So it’s true. You grow at a tenth of the normal rate. You’re what forty years old?”

            Hayden looked up into the piercing cold eyes. How could such a lovely shade of blue have so much steel hidden within? She could kill effortlessly. The bloody blade in her hand revealed that much.

            “Give or take three or four years.”

            She offered him her hand.

            He hesitated.

            “There’s no way you’ll be able to survive in the body of a toddler. You’re either going to come with me or die here.”

            Hayden was still nervous about taking her hand. Long flowing chestnut hair, pale skin, slender frame, why in the world was a beauty like her in this war zone? Everything about her was suspicious. “How do I know you’re not just going to kill me? Or…give me to the king?”

            “Do I look like the type of person who would kill you?”

            Hayden glanced from her cold eyes to her stained steel to the solider bleeding out below. “Yes. I don’t think you‘d think twice of it.”

            Her face softened. “It’s kind of painful to hear those words out of the mouth of a three year old. You’re just going to have to trust me on this one.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the hay. After a few murmured words the two turned invisible and worked their way off the--burning--mansion grounds.

USA, Boston, Massachusetts, July 7, 1845 time-line b

            “Where are we going?”

            “Oh someone’s finally started talking. I’m happy to see you’d at least ask some questions when boarding a ship.”

            Hayden shrugged. “I figured that if you were going to kill me you could have done it a while back. Though at the moment I would almost be happy if you would.”

            “Oh is that so?” She brought the back of her hand across his face in a heavy slap. “Don’t ever act as if your life is worthless.” She offered him her hand as if he were a small child. He accepted it--she had made it quite clear that a mother-child appearance was important to maintain so as to not arouse suspicion.

            “Who said I was acting?

            She tugged him up the gang walk. “You better have been. I’m going out of my way here.”

            Hayden didn't respond.

            “Look. Right now life may seem bleak. You've lost your standing, your father, your friends, just about everything. And as long as you’re in this land where you've lost everything you have ever known life will probably seem gray and tainted. But there are a lot of places out there. Lovely places. Don’t tell me you don’t like living until you've tried a few locations to live in.”

            Hayden wasn't convinced but those eyes had him mesmerized. He nodded slowly, “yeah. I’ll give ‘em a try.”

Beijing, China, March 6, 1861 time-line b

            “Kind of strange how you only celebrate your birthday once every ten years.”

            Hayden shrugged “that’s just how I've always done it. My body only matures a year for every ten I live so why not?”

            “ Wouldn't an annual birthday be more fun?”

             “It’d be a waste of time.”

            “Well. As long as you’re satisfied with the way things are than so am I.” Cass produced a small cake with six large lit candles upon it. “Happy sixtieth Hayden. I pray for many more.”

            Hayden took a deep breath and blew out the candles. “I suppose I wouldn't mind a few more years myself.” He received the first slice of cake. “Oh my! Your baking has actually become edible! If only your cooking would follow suit.” He received a palm-full of icing to his face.

London, England, August 6, 1919 time-line b

            “Guess this war is a pretty big deal.”

            Hayden agreed. “I don’t get what its all about though.”

            Cass shrugged. “it’s the same as most. Rich people have disputes and they send the poor people out to die for them. Royalty is always ready to get up in arms over an insult but never ready to stick out their own necks to defend their honor.”

            “Royalty. I used to be a royal of a sort but I didn't live a very regal life. What does it mean to be a king or a princess?”

            Cass stared off into the distance. “Well…I’m sure being a king means doing whatever you want or feel is right. Being a princess probably just means…every piece of bread you've ever eaten was buttered by someone else.”

            Hayden looked out of the window of their small shared flat. “I’ll be twelve in two years. Maybe I’ll hit that monster known as puberty.”

            Cass smiled. “I’m looking forward to that. Dealing with a man in a child’s body has always been a bit disconcerting.”

            “Well…” Hayden continued to fix his gaze upon the bustling city beneath him. “…thanks for always being with me. There’s nothing I can do as a child. I’d probably be dead if it weren't for you.”

            Cass knelt behind him and wrapped him up in a loving hug. Her breath was warm in his ear as she whispered. “Don’t worry, I expect you to repay me someday.”

Wales, November 3^rd, 1962 time-line b

           

            How had they caught up with them? Why now of all times? This was probably the happiest place he and Cass had settled down in.

            He ran from the cottage window. They were most certainly coming. The torches and angry shouts, it was the same as when he’d first met Cass.

            The two of them fled out the back, sprinting with all of their might. They had prepared motorcycle about a half mile away from their cottage.

            Life was about to get harder, so much harder. Now that his existence had been confirmed the whole realm would be after his life.

            Hayden cursed as they rode away. His only comfort were the arms wrapped around his body and the cheek resting on his shoulder. He would protect her. No matter what he would protect her.

            They were on a boat before the sun rose.

            “Why?”

            Cass cocked an eyebrow “hmm?”

            “Why is my life like this? What did I do to deserve this hellish existence? Why is it that they take such pleasure in hunting me? In bringing me pain and misery?”

            Cass looked out over the rolling ocean and ran a hand through Hayden’s uncouth hair. “Do you hate them?”

            “Hate who?”

            “The people in power. The people who say you don’t have the right to live. The three kings.”

            Hayden considered the question. “I think I do but then again maybe not. I mean I certainly don’t love them but hatred feels like the sort of thing that hurts me more than it hurts them.”

            Cass apparently didn't like his noncommittal answer. “If you had the royal families’ heads in the guillotines and you held the rope that suspended the blades would you let go?”

            Hayden didn't answer her.

Las Vegas, Nevada, USA, September 3, 1970 time-line b

            Cass was gone.

            What other conclusion could he reach?

            For nearly one-hundred-thirty years they’d never spent more than three or four days apart. It had been nearly four months since he’d last seen her. He needed to move on. Staying in one place--even if it was such a crowded city--was too dangerous.

            He wanted to look for her of course. He’d literally woken up one day and she’d been absent but he had no idea where to go. She hadn't left behind a single clue. On top of not knowing where to look for her he wasn't sure where to go in general. Cass had always been the one to make those sorts of decisions. She’d also always been the one to produce the cash for their various endeavors.

            Life would be a bore without her. He had to find something to do or he might go looking for trouble just for the sake of a bit of excitement.

Vietnam, July 4, 1972 time-line b

            Hayden had never felt this sort of exhilaration before, on the cusp of dying yet seeing life in the most vibrant colors imaginable. War wasn't a good thing. Of course not. Everything about it was horrible, gruesome, and cruel.

            Hayden fired a few rounds over the barricade before ducking down again. He would find Cass. That much he knew, no matter how many hundreds of years it took he would meet her again. Before he did that though he would become stronger. No matter what it took he’d become a man, so that even the woman who had seen him in his childhood for a hundred years would come to see him as an adult.

            And the next time they found him he wouldn't run. He’d give them hell. He’d give them an even worse hell then they had given him the last century.

The Three Month High

September 26^th 2013

                Dear diary Hello Journal,

               

                I kind of wish I’d started writing back when this was all happening. A journal…some memento to hang onto. Now all I have left is a jumble of memories, happy and sad. The best summer of my life and the worst at the same exact time.

                Parents, teachers, my friends’ parents…they all say take life by the reigns…but what if you don’t have the reigns? What if no one does? What if the best people in life get the shortest end of the stick and the hypocrites succeed in everything they do? What if you can’t stop the downward spiral that ends in misery? What if…?

                What if someone asked you to be friends and set a time limit on the friendship? At the time friendship with an expiration date was—of course—fine with you since he was just sort of barging his way into your life anyway. Then during the course of this peculiar and short friendship he changes everything. He turns your world inside out, switches left to right and up to down. How easy would it be for you to let that person go? Forget all about him? Move on with your life? Would you chase him to the ends of the earth--eagerly awaiting your joyous reunion? Or would you ignore the pain in your heart and trek on down your separate path?

                I’m a different person now than I was four months ago. I’m probably more cynical and pessimistic… but at the same time I’m a heck of a lot more empathetic and sensitive towards other people. There’s not many ways I can describe what happened to me…it’d be easier if I just told it as a story. It’s not hard to know where to start, let’s start where my life began. Not the birth canal kind of beginning. I’m talking about the kind of life-beginning where you start trying to find a purpose and understand why you were put on this cosmic dust-speck.

                Occasionally I have some entries where I just want to rant about life but for the most part this is an account, a story--a true one. That’s why this isn't a diary, it’s a book--and not one about me. If I wrote a book about the past me it’d be plain boring, who wants to hear about a girl who walked through life? This is a story about the boy who taught me how to fly--no soar.

          

Chapter 1

I never had really liked big cities. I definitely didn't like driving in them--it was nerve-wracking.

                If my target hadn't been such a rare copy of Oliver Twist I would have passed up on this particular opportunity to add to my collection. I adored Charles Dickens writings, this was the sixth copy I had of this one work. I hugged the paper bag closer to my chest. I decided not to give my new treasure a thorough inspection until after I got home.

                I was so taken up with my purchase that I didn't notice the crowd between me and my car until I bumped into a heavyset woman.

                “Sorry!”, I apologized immediately.

                She brushed me away and kept her eyes trained towards the sky. “Is he going to jump?”

                I followed her line of sight. Fifty stories above us a small speck of a person could be seen, balancing precariously on a ledge. The police were already gathering and several people were rushing into the building. If this guy was really serious about jumping there was no way they’d make it in time.

                I wondered what could push someone to the point where they would just want to end it all. A rotten child hood? A relationship gone bad? Bankruptcy? Perhaps he or she was just so sick of the monotony we call life that the decision to throw themselves onto the pavement hundreds of feet below came naturally. I shuddered and began pushing my way through the crowd, my morbid curiosity had quickly been overcome with the fear of seeing something to gruesome for words.

                Despite my rush I didn't manage to get inside my car before he jumped. It was close. In fact I’d just managed to turn my key in the lock of the ‘98 Camry before he threw himself down and a collective scream-like gasp sounded from those watching from below.

                I didn't want to watch but my eyes were drawn towards the plummeting body like paper clip to a magnet. After a second or two I squeezed my eyes shut. Would I hear the sickening thud I’d only experienced in movies? Bones snapping? Flesh tearing?

                I was probably too far away to hear the sound of a body hitting the ground but I heard the excited screams and shouts of the gathered crowd. I wondered if they should make such a spectacle of someone’s death, wasn't it disrespectful? It seemed like some sort of sacrilege.

                “So this is death…” I slowly opened my eyes.

                “No way! This is living.”

                It took me a second or two to take in my surroundings. The world I’d closed my eyes to was not the one I saw when I opened them. It felt as if the spectators eyes--that had been so focused on the suicide jumper a few seconds ago--were all drilled on me. Of course they weren't actually looking at me. They were staring at the boy, in a trench coat, struggling out of a parachute like apparatus, who’d just landed lightly on the hood of my car.

                It took him a few seconds to get out of his harness which promptly flew away with the slightest breeze. He slid off my car. “Sorry about that. I didn't realize the wind would blow me this far.” He gave the hood a quick inspection. “Yeah…looks like a put a dent in it. I don’t have much money but I’m sure I can pay it off somehow.” He turned back towards me with a well-that’s-life sort of expression.

                I recognized him after a second or two. Black hair, sad gray eyes, a gaunt frame and semi-pale skin. I had a photo-graphic memory and it rarely took even this long for me to associate a name with a face. He was smiling. In the three years I shared some class with him I’d never seen so much as a smirk. Not only was he smiling, but his eyes were alight with amusement. Eyes that had only been dead in the past.

                There were some shouts off in the crowd, police-men pushing their way forward.

                “Ah. Looks like I got to go. I might have disturbed the peace…a little.”

                I shook my head, trying to get my confused thoughts in order. “Harry?”

                He froze in the midst of his initial dash away. “How do you…?” He was obviously curious as to who I was but he looked back at the approaching cops, panic-stricken.

                I made a decision right then and there. It was probably the most important choice I've made in my entire life. It was the sort of decision that would change everything, though at the time I made it rather whimsically. “Get in the car.”

                He was too disoriented to disobey my order. He slid into the back-seat as I turned the ignition. I thanked God that I had backed into my parking space. In one fluid motion I swung out of the parking lot. I breathed out a sigh of relief when the police officers disappeared from my sight in my rear-view mirror. “They probably still got my license plate number though…”

                Harry finally spoke up. “Um…Thanks. Who are you?”

                “Don’t recognize me? We’re in the same class though. I normally wear contacts at school.” I removed my glasses and met his eyes in the mirror.

                “Oh. You’re that girl who’s like madly in love with Connor Higgins right?”

                “Huh!? Where did you-”

                Harry continued. “Um…Mabel? Beatrice? Agnes?”

                “Are those just the most grandmotherly names you could come up with on the spot? Claire Everett.”

                “Claire Everett…I guess I do know of someone named something like that. Though I've never talked to her or spent excessive time looking at her so I wouldn't be able to distinguish the original from a fake. Can you provide any evidence? It’s kind of weird for some random girl to practically force me into her car and take off.”

                I couldn't tell if he was joking or serious but either way I was getting irritated. Me offering him a ride wasn't even a quarter as odd as him throwing himself off a building, I figured my questions took priority over his. “Look. I’m your classmate. You looked like you were in trouble so I helped you out. Are you really this surprised?”

                “Yeah, I’m surprised. I’m surprised you knew my name. I guarantee you’re one of the only ones at school who does. I mean, I’m honored in a way. Claire Everett…knows my name.”

                “Are you teasing me right after I prevented you from getting arrested? I’m not all that popular at school and I don’t think I give off airs. Why are you acting as if I do?”

                Harry was silent for a moment. “Compared to me you’re like a queen or something. But I suppose even a few friends looks like a vast following to someone who’s cursed with antisocialism like some sort of freakish tattoo.”

                I rolled my eyes. “You don’t seem all that antisocial to me.”

                “Really? I guess I've just gained some insight into the human nature as of recent.”

                I shook my head. “Where should I take you?”

                “Where ever you’re going should be fine.”

                “I’m going home.”

                “Do you mind?”

                I chewed on my lip. What the heck? Yes I minded. “Well… I've got a lot of studying to do.”

                “Really? What a coincidence. So do I!”

                I could see in the reflection him making a big show of checking an imaginary watch.

                “I might just be able to fit you into my schedule.”

                He was just doing whatever he wanted! “You don’t understand…”

                His tone adopted a forlorn quality and a depressed undertone. “My parents aren't at home and if I’m by myself right now I feel like I might do something to myself…minus the parachute.”

                Urk. How was I supposed to respond to that? For someone I’d rarely heard a word out of the last few years of school he sure knew how to spin a verbal web. “You can come over…but you have to answer my questions okay?”

                “Deal. The only ones I won’t answer, are ones concerning why I jumped.”

                “I think it’s pretty obvious that those questions are on the forefront of my mind.”

                “Really? That was all you had? Don’t you think that the answer to that question could be a little--you know--private?”

                “You didn't do your skydiving act in private, so why should you keep your reasons secret?”

                Harry leaned forward. “How about we cut a deal?”

                He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. It worried me a bit…but it intrigued me as well. “If it’s anything weird or perverted you’re walking the rest of the way back.”

                The glint in his eyes grew stronger. “It’s not perverted, but it’s definitely pretty weird.”

                I kept my eyes on the road but he had my full attention.

                “While you’re a thousand times more popular than me you’re nowhere near Higgin’s level now are you?”

                “What makes you think that I like Connor?” I cursed my cheeks for the tingling heat that was flushing them.

                “Ah you’re blushing.”

                It wasn't the sort of thing I could deny.

                “I haven’t been participating in high-school social life much the last few years but I've been observing my classmates. Most of the girls wear their emotions on their sleeves, it doesn't take much consideration to determine what they want or think about.”

                I muttered under my breath. “Ninety-nine percent of guys would disagree with you.”

                Harry’s expression became serious. “But you’re different. You take a lot more to crack. Though in the end I just accepted that as a personal challenge. I was going to infiltrate your perfect little world.”

                I breathed out a laugh. “Oh and what were the analysis’s findings?”

                Harry stared into my eyes through the reflection. “That your world is far from perfect, in many ways. In fact I might have a healthier internal life than you do--and that’s saying a lot.”

                My stomach lurched. Just what did this strange boy know about me?

                That playful look returned to his eyes. “School ends in a week or so right? Be my friend for the next three months. It’s a noncommittal relationship for a single summertime, by the end of it we walk our separate ways. You’ll know why I jumped from that building and I’ll help you with what you really want.”

                Ideally I needed a moment to process his request but he pressed on.

                “You act like you’re content with life but in reality you feel insufficient right? You want to beat that long-time rival of yours--Sarah--and take Higgins for yourself.”

                How does he know this? My hatred for Sarah wasn't something I mentioned to anyone--ANYONE--I also wasn't very open about my affections, only Sam--my closest friend--knew about my long-time crush on Connor. “How would becoming your friend accomplish those things?”

                “I’ll teach you.”

                I felt a little incredulous. “You are going to teach me how to up my social status?”

                Harry shook his head. “Of course not. If you’re just interested in playing games then you’ll just keep giving yourself the penalty. I think we both know what I’m talking about.”

                More heat stung my cheeks. I think I did but I certainly wasn't going to acknowledge it.

                “I’ll just show you how to love life. From there it’s up to you to take advantage of it.”

                I was insanely curious as to what exactly he was offering me but in the end I knew it’d be best to refuse. Who knew what would happen if I accepted?

                He tacked on an ending to his speech. “If you don’t accept the deal I might just have to start spreading rumors of your wild hot love for Higgins, the hunky point-guard, and world’s most eligible bachelor.”

                “You’re threatening me!? After I saved you!?”

                “Don’t think of it as threatening…think of it as me forcing you to accept my ‘returning of the favor’.”

                I rolled my eyes at his paltry justification. “In this case they just so happen to basically be the same thing.”

                In all honesty, I wasn't quite sure what was happening as we pulled up to my house. Some way or another this weirdo had wheedled his way inside my home and earned my “friendship”. I didn't dislike him--no not at all--but still there was something about him that made the common sense within me scream, “run!” or “get away from him!”. Though at the same time I was an avid reader. The part of me that longed for whatever dangerous adventures he would provide wished I could be around him always.

                As we approached the door I cursed under my breath. There was a reason why I never had friends over. “My mom is probably inside. I don’t normally bring ‘friends’ home. Try to ignore her. She may be a little…” I trailed off, admitting to my poor family life was embarrassing.

                “I’m sure your people are no more messed up than mine.”

                I tried to get him to my room before my mom managed to catch a glimpse of him but it was a short lived dream. She appeared in a flutter of chestnut hair and sun-dress cut far too short for a woman of her age--at least in my mind it was, she still looked like a twenty five year old so most men would probably disagree.

                She smelled heavily of her favorite tequila as she draped an arm around me. “What is this? My daughter’s finally brought back a man! I thought this day would never come. She’s such a shy girl really. Though really…” She stepped away from me and grabbed hold of a lock of Harry’s dark hair. “…you couldn't do any better? You always struck me as the type to go for the athletic ones. He’s not bad looking but…” She patted his shoulders. “He’s built like a pencil.”

                “Mom. You’re making him uncomfortable. You can’t just latch on to a teenage guy like that.”

                I gritted my teeth as she grabbed his arm and pulled him even closer. “What’s this? Is my baby girl jealous?”

                “Mom you’re seriously embarrassing me right now. You need to find something to do during the day other than drinking.”

                She untangled herself from Harry with a sigh. “Don’t be such a spoil-sport. I don’t need to do anything else during the day, cause I married rich, let that be a lesson to you.”

                The moment I saw an opportunity to drag Harry to the sanctuary of my room I did so. “Sorry. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with that woman.”

                Harry’s face was flushed a bit but he wasn't too off put by my mother’s forward nature.

                I offered him my desk chair and plopped down on my bed before him. He seemed a little uncomfortable. Was it because we were alone in my room? Cute. Come to think of it he was the first guy who’d ever been in here--with the exception of my dad. I realized I’d been dwelling on it a little too long when I felt myself getting nervous.

                “Well let’s discuss our battle strategy.”

                I heaved out a deep breath. “Yeah…okay. Whatever.”

                “Say ‘hello’ to Higgins tomorrow.”

                I coughed. “That’s it?” I had said ‘hi’ to Connor before. Did Harry think I was a total social invalid?

                “Yep that’s it. Give him a genuine greeting. Not a passing wave or a quick acknowledgement. You've got to look him in the eye, say hello, and smile--not a slutty smile.”

                I wasn't quite sure what a “slutty smile” looked like. “This is your plan to make me love being alive? Have me say hello to a boy?”

                Harry shook his head and checked something on his phone. “No. This is just confirming that Connor knows you’re alive. We’ll start working on living life at the fullest after school.”

                I groaned internally. I wouldn't be going along with any of this if he hadn't threatened me. Even with the blackmail--of sorts--hanging over my head I was getting tired of this. He was wasting my Saturday, I’d done him a favor and he’d used it to barge in on my private life. I was about to kick him out and end whatever ridiculous relationship he was attempting to begin when I heard my father’s brusque voice downstairs. “He’s home early…”I looked up at Harry and made the first excuse I could think of. “ You've got to go. If he sees a boy in my room…I don’t even know what’ll happen. You’ll have to go through the window.”

                The threat sounded legitimate and Harry seemed quite concerned--perhaps a minute earlier and it would have effectively gotten him out through my second story window, but the yelling started before he was halfway there.

                Of course they’d start fighting the moment they saw each other. My mother was a hopeless drunk and my father a potent narcissist. My father was gentle physically so I was never worried that their fights would become a brawl--on account of him. My mother was a different story, if she snapped she’d probably seriously injure someone with her drunken violence.

                I watched Harry’s face as he listened to the ruckus downstairs. It had none of the things I’d feared from my friends if they were to experience my home life. There was no amusement and no disgust. Just the watery eyes of someone who understood my pain.

                He disappeared out of my window and left me to my thoughts. Those eyes were burned into my mind. They were capable of alternating between the vibrancy he’d displayed earlier in the car and a perfect compassion. Playing along with his game for a little while wouldn't be so bad would it? Just so I could figure him out the same way he’d managed to unravel me. Yeah. I didn't really care about all that learning to live and falling in love stuff but I owed him one for being so perceptive.

                Did he think he was the only one who could figure a person out by observing their behavior?

                I glanced at the full length mirror on my door. I didn't see anything particularly pretty about myself, though others had disagreed with my assessment in the past. Hazel eyes flecked with orange and dark brown hair. My nose was a little too long in my opinion but my mother--in between her drunken rages, during the sparse moments of maternal clarity--told me it lent itself towards a dignified appearance.

I certainly hoped so. I had liked one guy for nearly all of my high school experience. I probably should have approached him before he became so obnoxiously popular. Now with the level of the girls surrounding him I couldn't see myself having a chance. Harry would have to be a miracle worker.

                I caught myself. I didn't mind playing along with him but I was quite sure that it would be foolish to put any faith into whatever little scheme was playing out in his head. Doing so would just encourage his incorrigible behavior.

                With that my weekend dragged on and I slowly realized that time was moving so slowly only because I couldn't wait to see him again come Monday. I rightfully blamed my longing on what an odd person he was--my curiosity had been thoroughly aroused.